Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Zambia and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Gil Scott Heron to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Rotary Connection tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Associates record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Girls At Our Best! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
K-Klass,
Shuggie Otis,
Grandmaster Flash,
Outsiders,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Scientists,
Joy Division,
Charles Mingus,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rites of Spring,
DNA,
Tres Demented,
DJ Sneak,
Absolute Body Control,
Minny Pops,
The Wake,
X-Ray Spex,
Soft Cell,
Zapp,
Lou Christie,
Gil Scott Heron,
Black Bananas,
Bill Wells,
Parry Music,
Roger Hodgson,
Half Japanese,
The Alarm Clocks,
Tom Boy,
Jacques Brel,
Y Pants,
Country Teasers,
Nik Kershaw,
Wire,
Q and Not U,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rufus Thomas,
Connie Case,
Peter and Kerry,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Laurel Aitken,
John Foxx,
Moby Grape,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Henry Cow,
Minutemen,
Organ,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Steve Hackett,
Das Ding,
The Dirtbombs,
Matthew Bourne,
Eden Ahbez,
Darondo,
Monks,
Main Source,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Iggy Pop,
Swans,
Howard Jones,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.